That Which is Lost
by Megan Faye
Summary: House has to find that which is lost. SEASON 5 SPOILERS! And I edited the last two chapters and its COMPLETED!
1. Chapter 1

Title: That which is Lost

Author: Megan Faye

Rated: PG

Disclaimer: Fox owns House, and NBC Owns Simon Marsden. (Played by Michael Weston.)

Warning: SEASON 5 Spoilers!!

10 points to who can find the crossover!!

* * *

House stared at the phone number for a long time before dialing the number. Once this phone call was made, everything would change again. He hated change, but he owed Wilson. Amber was the only thing in Wilson's pathetic life that didn't screw up. And House had managed to do it for him. Logically, House knew it wasn't his fault. He hadn't meant for Amber to come to the bar, or get on the bus, or take those damn pills before a truck ran a red light and took Wilson's heart and shattered it. He knew it wasn't his fault.

Emotionally, though, he knew it was his fault. He was drunk, called for a ride, then took off before she could pour him into the car, and she followed him. She loved Jimmy so much that she gave her life to make sure House got home all right. Talk about loyalty.

House owed him.

And he knew exactly what he could do to repay him.

* * *

"Thanks for meeting me," House said, staring across the desk at the green-eyed man in front of him. "I need to know for sure that you will not tell anyone in this hospital what I am hiring you for. Its important."

"You have my word." The man took out a pen and note pad. "Why?"

"Keeps them wondering what I'm doing."

"I like that."

"What did you do before becoming a private investigator?"

"Well, I was working odd jobs until last winter, when I got pulled into some F. B. I. mess that had almost nothing to do with me. While we straightened it out, I found that I had a knack for finding things, picking up a trail. So they taught me. A lot in as very little time, actually. I worked a few good cases with them, but it wasn't really what I wanted; my sister's the cop, not me. So, I do this on my own now." House eyes him skeptically. "I still help them regularly, but it wasn't my thing. Still have the badge and everything."

"How good are you?"

"Gregory Michael House, age 47."

"Common knowledge."

"You appeared in Rocky Horror in college as Rocky."

"Again-"

"You and 'Janet' tried to have a fling on the set after closing night. Didn't take you long to find out she wasn't a she-"

"Okay!" House said, eye-brows high. "Hired."

"Who am I looking for?"

"Jeffery Ethan Wilson. Has two brothers, James Evan, Jonah Eric. Jeff was last seen homeless on a street corner 13 years ago. Somewhere in Trenton, filthy area, near the river." The man nodded.

"North or South end?"

"Is there a difference?"

"Yes. Homeless tend to move in patterns around cities. If he was last seen on the north end, he'd have moved south."

"I'm not sure where anymore."

"Give me 3 months."

"How much am I paying you?"

"You saved my sister's life, so I'll cut the fee in half. 5,000."

"Seriously? I saved your sister's life! That's gratitude, only cutting it in half."

"She's my half-sister." House shrugged and took out a check book. "Half now, half if I find him." House nodded and scribbled onto the check. The man read it. "You aren't Robert Chase-"

"He works for me. Wilson's best friend." The man nodded. "What's your name again?"

"Simon. Simon Marsden." He flashed a smile.

* * *

"Wilson?" House called into the office before knocking. This was a new concept to him, but the egg-shells he walked on were cracked and broken as it was. "Is it-"

"Go Away, Dr. House," came a cold reply from the other side of the door. House sighed and left without arguing. Cuddy watched silently. They were both destroyed that night. One life gone, so many feeling the loss of it. Dr. Hadley quit a few days later, and Taub was on his best behavior. Kutner was the only one who wasn't totally changed. Cuddy considered putting him in House's place for a short time, but Cameron recommended against it. Instead, she put herself back on House's team when she wasn't to busy in the ER. Cuddy was grateful; House had someone who was under the illusion that she was in-love with him.

"Greg?" Cuddy called gently. He stopped and looked up at her for a moment. There was a silent connection when their eyes met. He was hurting more than Cuddy could comprehend, and there was nothing she could do about it. She managed a small smile over at him before he limped on.

She sighed and went to Wilson's door. There was a long pause before she knocked softly.

"James?"

"Not Now," he said flatly. Lisa opened the door and looked in. "I don't want to talk."

"Then listen." She closed the door behind herself and sat down. "You need to take time off. If you don't take at least 2 weeks-"

"I already took a month off to help Amber's parents take everything she owned from our apartment. Everything of her that I had is gone now, and I can't sit in her apartment looking at the places where her things used to be. I'm working, my charts are done, my patients are getting better, some of them, and I do my clinic hours."

"And you haven't eaten enough to sustain life since-"

"Don't," he said in a dangerously low voice. Cuddy refused to back off.

"You will eat three meals a day with me, Chase, Cameron, Kutner, or Taub. You will eat, and they will sign the sheet, spend that extra hour with you after, and you will put on the 20 pounds you lost this month. Or I'll have you admitted. Do you understand?" Her tone matched his own. "I expect and answer, James."

"Fine, Mother." Wilson understood house House felt. And he damned himself for thinking about House again. "Are you going to give me a cane and a script for Vi-" Cuddy slapped him, hard, across the face.

"Don't. _You. __**Dare**_. Don't you dare question what I did for Greg to save his life. I would certainly do the same for you, and _**You**_ asked him to risk his life for Amber when there was nothing we could have done any way. **He** didn't kill her. _You_ did, you son-of-a-bitch. _House_ wouldn't have let her heart stop. _House_ wouldn't have let her go onto bypass if you hadn't been pulling the strings. _House_ actually **cared **about you so much that he went against his better judgement, as a _diagnostician_, to do what you, an _oncologist_, thought! If_ you _hadn't let her heart stop, she _might _have lived! We _might _have gotten the transplants she needed, we _might_ have diagnosed her in time to save her! _You_ screwed up; not him!"

"Don't you think I know that?" he whispered. "Don't you think that I live with that every second of every fucking day? I killed her, and then asked my best friend to risk his life for her. House will never be the same! He's finally cutting back on the drugs and the drinking. I finally got what I wanted; he's not a fall-down drunk off the clock! And I hate him for it! I hate him!" Wilson screamed.

"You don't hate House-"

"You can't possibly get it," he sobbed. "I've become him." Cuddy sucked in a breath. It wasn't House he hated. It was himself. Lisa put her arms around Wilson and held him while he cried.

"Not everything is your fault. Not everyone will leave you."

"Everyone already has."

* * *


	2. Chapter 2

Author's Note: Thanks for reading part one! I fixed some things that were wrong with it; Thirteen leaving, and Cameron's workplace. Here's part Two! Hope you like it!

* * *

"Come with me," Simon said, very softly, where only the ear close to him could hear. It had already been a month since Simon was hired, and two months after Amber's death. House looked through the glass at his team working. "We'll be back in 4 days." House nodded.

"Where are we going?"

"I have a few leads. I've cleared it with your boss. Told her you're helping me on a medical case. Since my sister was a patient, she didn't question me too much. She's going to shit a brick if you don't finish your clinic hours." House laughed. He made his way to the elevator. Simon held up a bag as the doors closed and the elevator slid down.

"What's this?"

"Lunch...for the road. Reuben, cold, no pickles."

"Jesus Christ, you _did _do your homework." House looked in to find a bag of chips there as well.

"Wilson paid for it-"

"WHAT?"

"Kidding."

"Not funny." The rest of the way to the car was silent as Simon studied his new boss.

"Why are you doing this?" Simon asked.

"Your research didn't come up with an answer?"

"Nothing concrete."

"I murdered someone." Simon stopped. House was serious. "It wasn't...I was drunk, and Wilson's girlfriend came to pick me up. I ran off to leave her with the bill, but she followed me onto the bus. She had the flu, and took a few pills, and-"

"Truck ran a red light-" Simon unlocked the car and the two got in. House was silent, staring at mirror out of the passenger window.

"I forgot. I forgot about the pills. Took out her kidneys, and we made a bad call in the ambulance. Killed her." Simon started the car and pulled from the lot. "You aren't going to tell me that it wasn't murder?"

"No."

"You think I'm a murderer?"

"Didn't say that either." Simon thought very carefully before he spoke. "You said you'd murdered her. I have never been where you are, never had someone die like that. What others see as an accident may feel like murder because you couldn't stop it. Fixing is what you do; illness, puzzles, mysteries. You couldn't fix her, so you're fixing this for Wilson."

"Something like that."

"So, we're headed to Scranton," Simon said, tapping on his GPS. "I have 6 leads; 4 between here and Scranton. There are 18 people with the same name, age, and have been homeless in this area in the last 15 years. But the social security doesn't match up. There are ways of getting around that; people who doesn't want to be found can be very creative." House nodded and pulled out his iPod. "My PM3 player is loaded with my music, and you'll approve."

"Maybe I should hire you on my team," House said, putting the iPod away as 'Baba O' Riley flooded the car. He bit into his sandwich and his eyes closed involuntarily. "What about you?"

"I had lunch already. Can't eat and drive."

"How'd you find out about the Rocky Horror nightmare?" Simon laughed.

"I'm just that good." House raised an eyebrow. "He is actually now a she, who works on Broadway in New York. I had my sister pull her aside and ask her about you."

"She's an actress?"

"Hooker."

"Figured."

* * *

James stared up at the ceiling. Cameron was cooking dinner for the two of them, in his and Amber's apartment. He felt like he was cheating. Two months wasn't long enough to have a woman over for dinner. Granted she was tired, wearing scrubs, hair was an absolute mess, and she had a boyfriend waiting at home. James sighed and turned on his bed. He took the letter from its place under the pillow.

It tugged at him more than anything else. He was grateful for the little things he still had of hers; their bed and the set they'd picked out, the note, and pictures of them that she'd framed and put up. There was one in particular he loved, taken 3 weeks before her death. It was spring, and they'd been at a park with some friends of hers. She'd fallen asleep on the blanket, tucked into his chest, smiling a little. Her mother asked for a copy. Amber had never looked so happy in her life. Wilson gave it to her, no questions asked. Their friends could get him another copy easily. He'd make a phone call, and it would be delivered within a day or two.

He just couldn't bring himself to make that call.

The door opening took his mind from staring at the ceiling to praying it was Amber coming in, telling him that it had all been a bad dream. She'd be fine, and he could live again.

"Wilson?" Cameron called. As usual, it wasn't her. It would never be Her.

"I'm awake," he said, thinking it was the best option in choices of words.

"Dinner's on the table," she said softly. He nodded, tears filling his eyes. Cameron swept in wrapped her arms around him as he cried silently. "Hey, its okay," she soothed.

"No...its not."

"I know." He looked at her. "It will never be okay, it will never not hurt." He sniffled. "I know its not okay, Jimmy."

"How do you survive?"

"Some days I'm not sure how I make it through. I hear someone who sounds like him, see a smile that reminds me of his, and I forget that he's gone. Its been 8 years, and I know he's gone, but I can't move one. Not really." James laid back on his bed. "Its hardest at night. Chase isn't him, and can never be him. He's a poor substitute for my husband, but its better than sleeping alone." Cameron sucked in a shaking breath.

"I want to hold her...one more time." Cameron nodded. "I want to tell her how much I love her, and that its not fair, and that I'll never forget how wonderful she was."

"God," she said holding him tightly. "If I could tell you how many times I wished for one more night..."

"You smell like her," he said, pushing away.

"What?"

"Body soap, hospital scubs, sweat, perfume, shampoo, tears, and slightly burned dinner," he said quickly.

"You smell like my husband; like a hospital, tears, and bad food," she whispered.

"Cameron...can I hold you? Just tonight? I'll be a perfect gentleman," he pleaded. Allison was silent for a few moments. "I just want one more night."

"Me, too."

* * *

"So, the man said, 'You think I wished for a 14 inch PIANIST?" Simon said, bringing a roar of laughter from his road trip friend. "Never gets old, does it?"

"Never."

"So, according to this, we're not too far." House nodded and mentally prepared himself for a let-down. This was the third Jeff Wilson. The first was blond hair, blue eyed and was definitly not related to _his _Wilson. The second was currently Jeff Wilson, but was originally Samual Staite until he was adopted at 3 months old. This was the final Wilson they could look up on this trip; Wilson #4 was out of town on business until the end of the week.

"Stop. Its Him." House jumped out of the car at the corner as a man bought a paper at the news stand. He was dirty, but probably not homeless. His coat was old and worn, but his hair was trimmed, and he was clean-shaven.

"House-" Simon called.

"Are you Jeff Wilson?" The brown-eyed man looked up at him.

"Nope."

"Liar."

"Who the hell-"

"I'm a friend of your brother, Dr. James Wilson."

"I don't have a brother named James."

"Your lips say No, but your eyes say they are the same as Jimmy's." The man scoffed put his hands on his hips. House smiled. "Look, I'm not hear to stalk you. Jimmy's having a really bad year, and needs you."

"What could my brother who has it all need me for?"

"Well, his best friend is a drug addict doctor, his 3rd wife got his house in the divorce last summer, and his drug addict friend got his girl friend killed in a bus accident. THEN, he almost got that friend killed by subjecting him to painful, dangerous, experimental tests. Life pretty much blows right now, and he needs to know you're alive."

"So tell him I'm alive!"

"He's not speaking to me."

"Why?" House looked Jeff right in the eyes, his own blue eyes reflecting regret.

"Dr. Greg House, Drug addict, at your service," House said, looking away again, shamefully. Jeff stared a moment and then nodded.

"This sounds like a personal problem." Jeff walked away. House got back in the car.

"You aren't going to go after him?"

"Well, Duh. I didn't have my cane, and I can't exactly keep up. You have his work address. Drive there, you moron!"

"Don't be abusive, you ass. I had the ability to strand you here." House nodded and gestured in the general direction on the road. Simon rolled his eyes and headed to the man's home. House rolled down the window.

"I'll pay you, to get in the car and come back to Princeton," he yelled out the window. "I'll give you 500."

"Sorry," he said walking on.

"He goes to that corner," House called. Jeff stopped. "He goes to the corner he last saw you on when ever he needs to think, or when he's depressed." After a pause, House looked away and then back. "HE's been going there a lot lately."

"He chose this."

"He didn't chose this," House countered. "He's been looking for 15 years for you!"

"And _you_ found me?"

"I have the better detective, who used all the leads the last 15 years produced, and narrowed it down to you and a few other possibilities. His sister is a detective on the NYPD." Simon slapped House's shoulder. He'd said more than he should have. House didn't care. "He needs you!"

"He needs better friends."

"700."

"No."

"What will it take to get you to come back to Princeton?" Jeff looked up and stared House right in the eye, to be taken comepletely seriously.

"There is _Nothing_ that can get me back to Princeton."


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: How does one write with a brain injury? Poorly? You be the judge! (Remodel on house gone awry. end conclusion; minor concussion. Ow. My eye brow hurts. wait for the story i spin _that _one into!!)

* * *

When Wilson opened his eyes, he actually felt rested. For a second, the sleeping woman next to him was Amber; blond hair, scrubs, same smells. But quickly enough, to his dismay, he remembered. It wasn't Amber his arms were wrapped around. It wasn't Amber who cried into his shoulder. It wasn't Amber who held him while he sobbed late into the night. And It wasn't Amber who understood exactly how he felt.

It was Allison Cameron.

Wilson forced his eyes closed again, forcing Allison to be Amber in his mind for only a few more seconds. It wasn't hard. She was still sleeping, tucked so close to his chest, he couldn't see the top of her head without crossing his eyes. She'd held him, and they cried and comforted each other until they fell asleep. Last night helped him. He knew it was good to grieve, and so they did. Together. Wilson had bet it was the first time Allison had cried in a long time. Not a few tears because of a patient; a real cry. She was hurting and healing, too.

So he opened his eyes.

And he felt better. He felt like maybe life could be okay again someday.

"Cam...Allison?" he whispered. She was sound asleep, and he was comfortable, so he stayed there and let her sleep.

His dreams flooded back to him as he laid there. He usually dreamt of Amber; their wedding day, picking out a house together, buying a goddamn minivan because they were going to have a baby, and she'd want a safe car. He dreamed of what their lives were supposed to be, but never would be, because of a damn truck, some flu pills, and a head injury.

But Amber hadn't been in a single dream last night. He dreamed of Cameron. Of her smiling up at him from his couch, where she'd been reading a book by fire light. Nothing special about it, just...comforting.

"Mmm..." came soft moan from next to him.

"Morning," he whispered.

"Whttimesit?"

"What was that?"

"What time s'it?" James looked over at the clock.

"Almost noon."

"Crap," she said, not moving from her warm, safe spot in his arms. "Cuddy's probably pacing the hospital, waiting for me to tell her you're okay."

"She's really got you calling?"

"She's worried about you, James," came a muffle response. "She cares about you."

"I didn't eat last night."

"S'okay. I make better breakfast than dinner." James nodded, not letting go. "I have to get up to cook." James released her and stretched. "James?" she said, brushing hair from her face. "Thanks...for last night. I think we both needed it."

"Do you...maybe...want to stay again tonight?" Allison allowed a small smile creep up.

"I'd like that."

* * *

"Are you really going to give me 10,000?" Jeff asked, leaning forward so his head was between House and Simon. House's eyes closed in annoyance. Simon braced himself for another House Rant.

"For the last time, yes!" House snapped as he pushed the man back. "Dammit, I should have brought a tranquilizer."

"Leg hurting that badly?" Simon asked, knowing full well the answer.

"Not for me, for him!" Simon glared at the man in the back seat for a moment through the mirror. "I have half a mind to shove my cane-"

"You try it-"

"Jesus!" Simon hissed. "You two have been fighting for the last two hours! Will one of you go to sleep already?"

"Wait," House said. "Turn left."

"Wilson lives-"

"We're stopping by my place first. Let Pigpen get cleaned up and into clothes that aren't covered in oil," House suggested.

"You _so_ don't have clean clothes."

"Not true. I always have a few clean sets for Hooker Wednesdays." Jeff swept his head around to meet Simon's eyes. "Yes, I am serious."

"No he's not."

"I don't iron, but I do wash. I am a doctor, y'know." Simon pulled over to House's building. As the got out, House lead the way to his home and pointed out the bathroom, handed off a towel and some clean clothes. "You have stuff under your fingernails."

"So? I work at a car repair shop. What's wrong with looking like myself?"

"Just...go shower," Simon said dropping onto the couch. As soon as the door closed, Simon glared over at House. "You're a bigger pain in the ass than I had imagined."

"Thanks."

"Got anything TiVoed?"

"Nope." House checked his messages. There were 12. Ten were from Kutner, Foreman, and/or Taub. Two were from Cuddy, threatening to hurt him. They'd already been gone 2 days. While Scranton was only 2 hours away from Princeton, they'd spent time actually looking up the people who were supposedly Jeff Wilson. It takes time, energy, and Vicodin to properly stalk someone.

"She sounds pissed," Jeff said as he stepped out of the bathroom midway through Cuddy's final message. House's clothes were baggy on him, and the wrong color, but it was better than the oil-stained jeans and ill-fitting ragged coat. House tossed the man a clean pair of socks.

"Leave the over-shirt un-buttoned. Makes you look less like a cancer patient." Jeff blushed and obeyed.

"Got anything to eat around here?"

"Are you still homeless?" Jeff didn't answer. He simply walked over to the fridge. "Help yourself." There was no sarcasm in House's voice, which caught Simon off guard. He stared for a minute before looking back at his shoes. House followed Jeff in to the kitchen and got bread and mustard out of a small cupboard.

"What was the address we had on you?"

"It was the repair shop where I work. Boss lets me sleep in the cars as long as I put a drop cloth down, and get cleaned up in the morning." Jeff shoved a slice of cheese into his mouth hungrily as he made a sandwich. "Its not half bad."

"Wilson's got a two-bedroom apartment, and you have a PhD. No reason to work on car, or live in them."

"Do you need me any more?" Simon asked. "My girl friend and her kid probably wonder where I ran off to."

"One more place and you can go," House said, hauling Jeff to his feet by his arm-pit. "To Wilson's!" House yelled in a lame 'super-hero' voice.

"Can I eat first?" Jeff asked, mouth full as he stumbled after House.

"Eat on the way."

"I can do that," Jeff said, shoving another bite in.

* * *

Author's Note: Pigpen is a Peanuts reference for the dirty kid who never took a bath.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's Note: Movie references: The Thumb Series. A series of short movie spoofs where all actors are, literally, thumbs.

* * *

Cameron and Wilson had settled on watching a few funny movies, and staying in his apartment that day. She'd called Cuddy, who had been worried all night, and was now free to relax with the man who'd become her friend. First, they'd laughed through SpaceBalls, followed by Monty Python and the Holy Grail, and finished out the day with The Thumb Movies: ThumbTanic, Thumb Wars, FrankenThumb, The Bat Thumb, The Blair Thumb, and The God Thumb. It felt good to laugh.

Wilson looked over at her as she put the last DVD back in its case. He took her hand and squeezed it gently.

"Allison," he said softly. "Thank you. It feels good to laugh."

"I know," she whispered. Cameron rested her head on his shoulder and close her eyes. "When you close your eyes, am I her?"

"Some times," he answered. "Am I him?"

"Some times."

"But," he said, tilting her head up to look at him. "You're not her. You're Allison; my co-worker, my friend, my..."

"Substitute?" she asked, sadly.

"No. You are the someone who really gets me, and what I'm dealing with. You're my kindred spirit."

"I can live with that," Cameron said, resting her head back on his shoulder.

"Allison?"

"Hm?"

"How long did you wait before dating?" Cameron sat back and eyed him. "My mother is hounding me to move on, I'm not ready, and I don't know how long I should even wait."

"I waited 4 years after he died before I went on a single date, and it was an Epic failure."

"House?"

"I amost swore off dating completely."

"Chase change your mind?" Cameron laughed and shook her head. "What changed your mind?"

"You did." Wilson cocked his head to the side. "I mean, you had bad marriages, and bad dating, but you were still a nice guy. I hadn't seen 'nice' in a long time. Chase wasn't 'nice.' He was sweet, he was...incredible in bed. He wasn't nice. He didn't open doors for me, or let me cry in his office after a bad day. You did. You were always a gentleman."

"Four years..." he said, thinking. "So, in 2012, would you like to have dinner?"

"We'll see."

"So, why are you working for Him again?" he asked.

"For some reason, he actually behaves better when I'm there. He thinks I'm in-love with him, and he doesn't want to break my fragile little heart."

"You could take him." Allison laughed.

"Do you hate him?"

"God, I want to." Wilson looked away for a moment. "But I know, deep down, he did everything he could to save her. He'd do the same for you, me, and anyone...except maybe Chase."

"There's a good reason he hates Chase."

"Vogler?"

"No, actually. Do you remember my AIDS scare? With Calvin?" Wilson nodded. "I did something really dumb; I got-"

"High as a kite." Her eyes widened. "You called me first, but hung up when you realized I wasn't House." Cameron blushed. "Go on."

"I ended up with Chase that night." Wilson nodded, and sucked in a breath quickly. "House wanted him hung for doing me while I was high. House had been over first, and left me there after saying I didn't know what I wanted. I don't remember that, but believe me, he does. Chase took advantage of me in House's mind. He's an ass, but there are lines even he won't cross." He was about to comment when a knock interrupted them.

"Hold that thought," he said as he bounced over the couch and opened the door. He stared at House for a second before shutting the door in his face. A cane popped through in time to keep the door open. "Get out of here, House-" he started, voice filled with loathing.

"Wait." House grabbed someone and shoved him in front of Wilson. "Found you a friend."

"Hey, Jimmy." Wilson stared for a solid minute, jaw hanging.

"Jeff?"

"In the flesh."

* * *

Cameron and House watched the two men hug and listened as they chatted aimlessly about everything under the sun except two main subjects; Homeless and Amber. House was happy just to be in the room with Wilson again. He'd done this for selfish reasons, Cameron reminded herself. But it didn't matter. Wilson had his brother back and he was happy.

"Why?" Cameron ased when Wilson Squared headed to get beer from the fridge.

"He needed his brother."

"You probably saved them both."

"Good."

"Why?" she asked innocently.

"Maybe...maybe because I am tired of paying for my own lunch?"

"So you spent the money to hire Simon, and it was so Wilson could buy your lunch?"

"He also offered me ten grand." Jeff was standing in the door. "I thought you'd toss me out on sight, and he said he'd give me 10,000 bucks if you did. I could use the money. So I get a road trip out of it, and either ten thousand bucks or I get a brother. It was a win-win."

"So where are you staying?" Jeff looked from House to James.

"He's got a couch at Casa De La Casa," House said.

"Jeff, are you still homeless?"

"Not really. I live to work, brother."

"He lives _at _work, Wonder Boy." James looked from Jeff to House and back. He understood.

"I have aguest room, and we can catch up. Hell, you can stay as long as long as you like." Wilson smiled from House to his brother. Cameron looked into her drink. "Allison's staying here for the night." House's eyes shot up. "Relax, we're not together."

"We're just not ready to be alone."

"So be alone together?"

"Something like that."

"Well, I'm going to catch a cab-"

"House," Wilson said, catching his friend by the arm. Before House could say anything, Wilson pulled him into a hug.

"I still hate you for Amber. But thank you...for Jeff."

"I still hate me for Amber, too."

* * *

The next day, House knew a storm was headed his way with the clicking of heals coming fast behind him. Damn, but he couldn't out run her. Thankfully, he had a Plan B, where she wouldn't even get a chance to get on his bad side that morning.

"Five Days, House! You were supposed to be gone four. House, you so owe me clinic-" Cuddy started. She stopped when Wilson walked up to the two of them.

"Morning, House," Wilson said, as if things were closer to normal. There was no sign of hatred or even sarcasm from Wilson.

"Are you still up for tonight? Gravedigger is pleading for us, Cameron is picking up Chinese..."

"Far be it from me to disappoint Grace Digger...Or Cameron, for that matter."

"Room mate like Chinese?" Wilson nodded and headed for the elevator. "Hold it for me!" House called after him. Wilson gestured his hand over his shoulder, indicating he would hold the elevator and continued on. Cuddy snapped out of staring at the two of them, closed her dropped jaw. and looked House in the eyes.

"Okay, what the hell did you do?" She stared him down. "House..." House thought very carefully about his next words.

"Just found something he'd lost." With that, House smirked and followed Wilson onto the elevator, leaving Cuddy standing in the lobby, confused to all hell.

But, she was okay with that.

* * *

Author's Note: Thanks for reading! I'm going to, hopefully, write more in the weeks to come :-)


End file.
